


Sparring Partners

by vanillafluffy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Touch, F/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: Maria Hill is badass. This is a fact. However, she's more than met her match when JB Barnes comes to the Tower and wants to spar.





	

**Author's Note:**

> These guys are my OTP. (There. I said it.) But they have their issues--it certainly wasn't love at first sight!--as this story reflects

She should have known it would end this way. From the beginning, Maria Hill hasn't trusted the guy--call him JB or Bucky Barnes, deep down she's always been convinced that he's still the Winter Soldier. Her plan had been to kick his ass, but it hasn't worked out that way. Now, under the guise of "sparring", he has her flat on her back, and he's on top of her.

Her hands are held immobile above her head (by his flesh-and-bone right hand, which is infuriating). He's somehow got her legs pinned with his, and that's terrifying, because she can feel the rigid column of his arousal pressing against her belly. The fact that he's not tearing her clothes off does not reassure her. 

She intensifies her attempts to break free--might as well struggle against a rockslide. He presses metallic fingers against her lips when she attempts to scream--although, since the Tower's private practice rooms are sound-proofed, it's probably a lost cause.

"Stop that." He voice is firm. "You're dead, do you understand me? Like this, I could very easily crush your skull, your trachea, your rib cage...panicking won't help matters." She forces herself to stop struggling. Maybe he'll let down his guard. "That's better. Do you know why you're in this predicament?"

_Because I'm pretty sure you aren't human._ "You're faster than I am." 

"No." He releases her hands and bounces to his feet before she can do more than register the absence of restraint. "You have good reflexes, but you can't act on them because your stance is poor."

Maria rises to her feet, a little stiffly. She watches him carefully, sure that he's toying with her. 

"Shoulders back," he says, behind her just that fast. He grips her shoulders, pulling them back and arching her chest forward until she gasps. "That's better. You can't attack properly until you can breathe properly." She tries to pivot so she can do just that--her fear has turned to outrage. 

A kick to her ankle puts her off balance, but he grabs her shoulders again. "As much as I admire your initiative, Hill, we're not finished discussing breathing." His voice is calm, and he pauses, maybe assessing whether she's listening. "Hunching your shoulders forward limits how much air you get, which limits what else you can do."

She can think of a number of things she'd like to do, beginning with drop-kicking his testicles into his sinus cavity. 

"I want you to practice standing with your shoulders flat against the wall--with a tennis ball between your shoulder blades. Your feet should be spread just slightly wider than your shoulders, knees a little looser than parade rest...I know you know what parade rest is; you were a Marine."

"How the hell do you know that?" She tries to twist around to look at him, and, unexpectedly, he releases her. She staggers, regains her balance and glares at him. 

"You left home young. You did hand-to-hand training under Halvorsen at Parris, and he retired in '98." _The bastard's right, but how the hell did he find that out?_ He continues, tone dispassionate. "You were stationed for an extended period in Korea--long enough to gain a black belt in the martial art of Sinanju. Quite an achievement; there aren't many masters of that discipline left." 

Maria is speechless. Has he been well-briefed, or is it possible he could have divined all that just from a brief sparring session?

"And a couple years doing Jazzercise," he adds with a flicker of a grin. _That_ certainly isn't part of her formal resumé. "I expect you to work on standing correctly," he tells her. "I'm happy to teach you, but I'll know if you don't apply yourself."

_Like he's doing me a favor. Like I'm no good without his help, the insufferable, arrogant bastard!_ "I hate you!" she snarls.

He nods slightly. "I'm aware of that," he says with a trace of irony and the faintest of smiles. He turns toward the practice room door, and turns back just as she's gathering herself to leap at him. _Damn the man, does he have eyes in the back of his head?_

"One other thing." His voice is flat now, his expression stony. "I've done a lot of things in my life that I regret, but I have _never_ molested a woman."

He turns on his heel and marches out, leaving Maria feeling both angry and chastened. 

...


End file.
